The last secret_ a novel - Mary McGarry Morris [93]
“Kids learn a lot from their parents, Nora, good and bad, but I'll tell you one thing Clay's not. He's not afraid of anything or anyone. He's just a happy-go-lucky kid,” Robin said, message clear: her son was a lot better off than sensitive Drew, so easily hurt, quick to cry, fearful.
The next few days pass in a blur. Her concern for her friend keeps getting lost in her confusion about Eddie and Robin. It doesn't make sense. It must have been someone else Kay saw. He's gone. He must be or she would have heard from him again. Early evening, and she and Ken are on their way in to Boston to see Oliver. The ride is strained. With the heavy downpour, cars creep bumper to bumper. Nora stares into the watery red glare of taillights. Ken is as tense as she is. Their brief attempts at conversation have fizzled into silence. She feels a perverse need to be with him, even when he doesn't want her to. Like now. Something's wrong. She's never seen him so edgy, so irritable.
“C'mon! Damn it!” He blows the horn. Directional flashing, the car ahead straddles both lanes. “Jesus!” He hits the horn again and Nora cringes with the long blare.
“What's the point?”
“It's taking forever.” He hunches over the wheel.
“Are we in a hurry?”
He doesn't answer. Even leaving the house, he seemed rushed. She needed to talk to Drew, but Ken insisted she wait until they get home.
Coming in was her idea. At first he said no, reminding her that Oliver doesn't want visitors, but she persisted. She and Ken seem farther apart than ever. They need to be alone together. That's the problem. Or maybe it's her. This constant dread, waiting for the ax to fall. She's always tense, jumpy.
And now, even more worried, about Drew. This is the second day in a row he's missed school. Headache and sick stomach, he claimed. He said he was in bed all day, sleeping, but when she got home from work she could tell he'd been downstairs playing video games, and his bed looked the way it had this morning. A mess, but the exact same mess. Right before they left tonight, she was loading the dishwasher when she noticed a shot glass on the top rack. She sniffed, but couldn't smell anything. She hurried into the pantry, fruitlessly checking the liquor cabinet. Even if something was missing she wouldn't know. Ken might, but the last thing she wants is another confrontation between them. Drew makes no effort to hide his scorn for his father. The least little thing and Ken just glares at him. When she went upstairs, to see if she could smell alcohol on Drew, he was taking a shower. A wet shot glass doesn't mean anything. He was probably just fooling around, the way kids do, shots of orange juice, soda, something like that. And besides, wasn't Chloe about this age when she was caught drinking? Yes, but at a party, with a bunch of friends. Not alone, on a school day, in an empty house.
“Ken, we've got to do something about Drew. He's so unhappy.”
“He's a moody kid. He feeds off all this … this—”
“Feeds? Feeds off what, Ken? Your lies? The pain he feels? The confusion, all the mixed messages through the years? Can't you see the fallout here? It's not just us. It's our kids. We gave them a good start, a good life, and suddenly everything's at risk. Of course they're going to be messed up. Especially Drew!”
“And you play right into it, you know that, don't you?”
“What're you talking about?”
“These things happen, Nora. I'm not saying it's right, but all this misery, all this guilt all the time!” He slaps on the directional. “I mean, he's not the only kid with a screwed-up family.”
“You mean Clay, don't you?”
“Oh, Jesus,” he groans.
“You've always compared them. Always. And don't think for a moment